


Need You Now

by samsaragreen



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 02:26:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16188152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsaragreen/pseuds/samsaragreen
Summary: Cat may be a little drunk and gets some advice from the bartender.





	1. The Quiet Man

**Author's Note:**

> So this is mainly about Cat. I've semi referenced season 2 episodes. Although technically that season didn't exist for me. This fic was inspired by the song ‘Need You Now’ by Lady Antebellum and also that bottle of rare scotch that went under the hammer for 1.16 million (I mean who amongst us didn't think of Cat Grant). So I googled 'scotch' and learnt so many things. All the scotch references are real including Lino Di Vinci. I made the banners … they aren't anything flash but they did help me with the story. This was SUPPOSED to be a one shot but it kinda ran away and became this. Any errors are mine. Enjoy!

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Cat Grant did NOT under any circumstances do regret. Yet here she was. Alone. Again. In a dive bar of all places. A dive bar in Washington D.C. She looked at her phone daring herself to ring a number she knew by heart.

  
“Why can’t I call her, Bill?” She asked the bartender for the umpteenth time.

  
“It’s Brian.” He stated again.

  
He was surprised the declaration of his real name wasn’t met with the customary wrist flick. It didn’t matter how many times he corrected her. One evening he kept repeating it through clenched teeth, she never faltered. Another night he had a nametag with Brian. Another night he changed the nametag to 'Not Bill'. While that made her laugh she persisted. For the past eight months, she had been coming into his bar. Every Friday night at the same time, drank the same amount and left at the exact same time.  
He knew who she was of course, who didn’t. She was even more recognizable than the president. Cat Grant, Whitehouse Press Secretary. She of the quick wit and acerbic turn of phrase. Able to browbeat those who thought themselves intellectually capable of bringing her down. He recalled their first encounter.

  
“Hi my name is Brian. What would you like?”

  
“Do you have a clean crystal tumbler?”

  
“I’m sorry what?”

  
I refuse to drink from .. those.” She waved her hand in the direction of the glasses.

  
The bar prided itself on it’s cleanliness. All the glasses were hand washed and immaculately polished. They were displayed under ‘black’ light so you could see if there were blemishes. Sure, it might be a dive bar but the clientele were hard working. If he was being completely honest with himself (and he always was) his customers were ninety nine percent alien the odd human every now and then. Intergalactic species were very particular about hygiene.

  
“I can assure you..”

  
“Yes. Yes, whatever. I can see they are perfectly clean for myself. But expensive scotch needs crystal and I intend to drink good expensive scotch. Which brings me to my next question. What have you got?”

  
He looked at the shelf behind him. All the expensive brands including Chivas Regal, Glenfiddich, Johnnie Walker Platinum, none of these seemed to fit this enigmatic woman and her demands.

  
“I have just the thing for both your requests.” He turned.

  
Walking towards a thick wooden door, which led into the office space. You could call it an office, it did have a desk and a laptop it was a small space. He pressed a floor panel and watched as it spiralled down creating a staircase into his vault. Three walls housed a collection of the rarest and finest wines, scotch, tequila and much more from so many planets most deadly to humans some not. The other held the things from his home world. He picked up a bottle and a crystal glass decanter set from Italy. Brian smiled hoping this would satisfy her. A patron had given it to him. After checking with his worldwide sources he had discovered it was not stolen rather an unwanted trinket from a failed marriage. He put it all into a box for easy carriage.

  
“Took you long enough” Was the very snarky reply.

  
“I couldn’t have been gone more than three minutes. Ma’am.” He said calmly.

  
“Never, call me ma’am. This is not the wild west.”

  
Humans! They all looked different how could they even communicate with each other.

  
“I’ll remember that. Ms..?” Clearly, it was a question.

  
“So, what’s in the box?” She asked refusing to answer.

  
“Ahh. Yes.” He carefully took the decanter set out, placing it front of her. Under scalding water, he carefully rinsed a glass and opened a new packet of glass wipes. He tried not to smile too much as he heard her hum of approval.

  
He set the glass in front of her. She picked it up.

  
“Italian?” She asked. Brian nodded. Reaching into the box he then took out the bottle of scotch that he hoped would make her feel better.  
“The Quiet Man.” She murmured. “I’ve never tried it.”

  
“It was named after the founder's father, a bartender himself who heard many stories, as most bartenders do, but always kept them to himself. I thought you should know that, Secretary Grant.”

“So it wasn’t named after the John Wayne film of the same name. Not that you would know who that is.”

  
“Secretary Grant, Where do you think I learnt the phrase ‘ma’am’.”

  
Cat Grant was so thrown she threw her head back and laughed. A sound that delighted him. Carefully he poured three centimetres of the liquid into the proffered glass.

  
“What does it smell like?”

  
“Surprisingly like freshly baked brownies, brandied butter and..” She paused and saw he was waiting for the rest. “Honey.” She finished.

He nodded and waited while she took a tentative sip. It reminded her of bright smiles and happy days. Baking with her son on lazy Saturday’s eating brownies whilst watching movies together. She refused to dwell on the other person that instantly sprang to mind. It made her feel comfortable unlike the political cesspit that was the happening around her new role.

  
“Mmmmmm.”

  
“Well?”

  
“Oh you want a critique?” She asked, eyebrow arched. He simply bobbed his head.

  
“Still chocolatey, a hint of orange peel, oh, a touch of pepper.” She savoured.

Having met his approval, she took a bigger mouthful. He left the bottle at her elbow and went to serve another patron. Studying the label she noticed it was a twelve year old, triple distilled Irish single malt whiskey, matured exclusively in oak casks. She poured herself a generous measure. Every now and then Brian would nod at her. She was grateful that for the rest of the time, he and the few patrons left her alone.

  
It was the chocolate taste. After a while, it began to weigh heavy not only on her palate but also her mind. It reminded her too much of someone with a penchant for sweet things. She picked up her phone for the first time that evening and looked at a number ingrained in her memory. NO! Best put that out of your head Grant she thought. It was why you left in the first place. You needed to dive, seek out new oceans. Never mind that your heart was still swimming in murky waters. Never mind that every night you still dreamt of deep blue eyes, felt your pulse race when you recalled her smile. It was better this way.

  
“Bill..was it?”

  
“Brian.”

  
“Thank you.” It was almost one thirty, the bottle was not quite half empty. Time to go home and face the massive hangover awaiting you in the morning.

Surreptitiously she left three hundred dollars cash under the bottle.


	2. Acqua Vitae

So, began his tentative ‘friendship’ with Cat Grant.

She came back the following week but refused to finish the bottle. Asking for the top shelf range instead. She barely spoke.

“The Chivas, Bill.” Was the terse response to his cheery hello.

“Brian.’ He muttered under his breath. The tense lines around her eyes and mouth were all the information needed. He did not seek to cheer her up he just complied. She left at one thirty again after staring at her phone for a full hour.

  
It was on the sixth visit that he saw the spark within her again. She had drunk her way through the top tier Chivas range.

“Bill.”

“Brian”

“Anything interesting in that cellar of yours.” She asked

"I have just the thing." He stated.

Cat watched as he turned to go into his office. It had been a hell of a month. She had heard of Cadmus but any investigation she tried was quashed in the past. Now with access to government files she learned just how far their reach was and the lengths they would go to kill any and all aliens. This past month had been trying. She didn’t want to think about a world with so much hate for people who were different. The constant push/pull scenarios of the Washington political landscape was wearing on her nerves.  
The bottle he showed her was not from Scotland.

“Trust me it’s scotch.” He assured her.

He got her glass and poured her a generous amount. He liked the smell of this one. Made with citrus peel, caraway, dill and best of all St. John’s Wort just the thing to soothe frazzled nerves. Everyone usually smelled old leather, tomatoes or caramel but he could smell each distinct spice and their unique bouquet blended together to form this wonderful concoction. Scotch was his favourite being the only thing he could drink. Earth water was unpalatable and those sugary drinks had caused a few of his kind to die. This particular brand reminded him of Esouh. He watched while she sipped. Inhaling the scent at the same time. The look on her face was curious all the different flavours blending until...

“It tastes like a vanilla latte with cinnamon.” Surprised that all those fragrances and tastes came to a conclusion. He smiled.

“You know it’s always reminded me of ..“ She stopped realising she was about to reveal something of herself.

“Ms Grant, you do not know my kind or me. Frankly, I’m shocked that you came into this bar in the first place. Why did you?” He asked.

“I miss home. National City. There were so many different people. I never cared where they came from, who they love, as long as they were decent and kind. I heard about this underground bar from a likeminded individual. I needed to get away from all the overpaid, stuffed shirts. I needed something other than straight, white men intent on making The Handmaid’s Tale a reality.”

“I like you Miss Grant.” He stated. Confirmation even though he sensed more to her explanation. That was the thing with his people. They sensed in all the ways.

I like you too, Brian.”

“Ahh, so you do know my name.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Bill” There was that sarcasm he had been missing from their last few encounters. He nodded, smiled again leaving the bottle with her and proceeded to clean the bar. Watching as she wistfully looked at her phone. This time slowly scrolling through photo’s. It was getting close to the time she would be leaving, when he heard her sigh.

“Can I ask you something?” She asked unexpectantly. It was a fleeting look on his part. Panic. Upon seeing it Cat realised exactly why he would feel this.

“Remember ‘The Quiet Man’.” She asked quietly. Brian nodded.

“That runs both ways.” She finished. 

He realised in that moment she would never indulge his secrets. He indicated his permission for her to ask her question.

“It’s a Friday night. Why is the bar almost empty?” 

It was his turn to be shocked into laughter.

“Usually it is very rowdy. Friday night is traditional for humans to congregate in bars; us aliens have taken to avoiding being anywhere where they congregate especially when alcohol is involved.” 

“Ahhh.” Was all she said. 

He did not need to mention that a room full of drunk people could turn ugly especially that whole mob mentality. He shuddered at the thought. He noticed that she too shook her head to dispel the image.

“Time to go, Bill.”

“Brian.” He smiled at her. Now that he knew her game, he decided he would play along.

“Ms Grant. I will understand if you can’t but would you consider taking the bottle. Share it with your likeminded friend. I’m sure it will help.”

He had a feeling he knew who that friend was. Durlans loved the taste of cinnamon.


	3. La Maison Du Whisky

She came rushing in on a Wednesday. The bar was packed. Aliens everywhere. The site of Cat Grant amongst them stopped the revelry. The room fell silent. With all the grace, determination and sheer chutzpah that was Cat Grant, she squared her shoulders and waltzed up to the bar.

  
“Ms Grant. Is everything okay?” Concern etched Brian’s voice.

  
“I just had some disturbing news from National City. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” In the surrounding silence still prevalent in the room, Cat tried to make her voice as soft as possible.

  
“Everything is fine. Ms Grant. Should I be concerned?”

  
“No. Yes” She hung her head in defeat. She was not willing to risk further lives. She’d almost lost the one person apart from her sons who mattered. She was going to step up and be the advocate for all refugees. No more balcony accusations. No more skirting about the elephant in room. Cadmus had almost killed Ka … Supergirl. No more hiding.

She turned and faced the crowd.

  
“What I’m about to tell you all, is a matter of national security but to hell with that. I’m breaking so many federal laws right now but to hell with that too.”

  
“Ms Grant..no” Brian reached out. He was surprised when she took his hand and he saw tears in her eyes.

  
“Please Brian. I have to. Everyone is danger. A bomb is about to be dropped in National City. It was designed by Cadmus.”

  
She heard the collective gasp and saw the fear that word had.

  
“The bomb is designed to kill all alien life on the planet. I want you all to find shelter, underground if you can. The president, the secretary of state and I have opened three underground bunkers near Arlington cemetery. Only we three know of this situation. I urge you all to get your families and friends together and prepare to evacuate.”  
Brian spoke. “Why would you do that for us, Ms Grant.”

  
“Oh for heaven’s sake Bill, not now. I need you all to move. Chop, chop.”

  
No one budged.

  
“It will take ten minutes for the Medusa virus to reach Washington. We can save a lot of people..” She looked around. A young alien approached.

  
“You called us people.” S/He said. It was almost a question with a touch of awe.

  
“Aliens, people, humans, what does it matter.” A distinct ring tone echoed ‘Hail to the chief.’ She looked at her phone is disbelief. Swiping to receive the call.

  
“I’m..” but whatever she was about to say next was cut off. “Yes. Are you sure? Oh thank god or whatever you believe in. Yes. I’ll make sure. Thank you Madam President. Give me twenty minutes.”

All eyes were on her again. The relief palpable in her stance.

  
“The virus was rendered inert. It’s okay. We’re all going to be okay.”

  
It was then the room changed. All the different species gathered in this one space, clapping each other on the back, some hugging, some .. well she didn’t want to know what the hell that was. The young alien from before came up to her, held out a web shaped hand. She took it. Whatever phobia about germs she had went out the window in that moment.

  
“Thank You.” S/He said. “I’m going to National City tomorrow. I have family there.”

  
“Be safe.” Was all she could think of to say in that moment.

  
“I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you Ms Grant. I have just the very thing.” Brian shouted from across the bar.

She gave him an eye roll and watched him disappear. The alien looked at her. Their yellow eyes with red iris were unusual. S/He had glasses that had not registered with Cat initially. They instantly reminded her of Kara. There she said the name. Up until now, a name she avoided. Kara, well Supergirl had saved the day again. She knew, of her former assistant’s double life. She would need to mention the DEO’s lack of security when it came to Kara appearing in her civilian clothes at the city facility.

  
“Before you go…” Cat reached into her purse. “I want you to contact this person." She gave her a business card. "Her name is Kara Danvers. She’s one of my reporters. Tell her your story.”

  
“Why?”

  
“Because the world needs to know. The world needs to hear of all the interplanetary refugees. Let your voice be heard.” Cat held on to her hand, willing them to take her advice.

  
“Oh and tell her to stop using Supergirl as a source.” She noticed the girl flinch.

  
“Are you okay?” Cat asked.

  
“Many of us, where in Fort Rozz for what you would call minor offences. It wasn’t just Kryptonians who were sentenced there. The entire Rao system included seven planets. The destruction of Krypton decimated not only those seven but affected others within that section of the galaxy.”

  
“Supergirl was not responsible..”

  
“I know Ms Grant. How can you blame a child for the faults of the parents? My own were thieves. They hid their stolen goods in our house. When the authorities came, I was the only one home. I was not believed. I was the one sentenced.”

  
“I’m so sorry. Is there…” Cat was stricken. That something so trivial here could be so catastrophic in other galaxies.

  
“It’s okay really. I found a way that I can avoid the harsh sunlight. I work nights at the sewerage plant. Wednesday is our Saturday. So I’m an exemplary employee.”

  
“Well that makes sense.”

  
“Anything else I should say to this Kara Danvers”

  
So many things thought Cat. So many things I need to tell her. I miss you, being the one upper hand in her mind.

  
“No. That’s all.”

  
Cat turned away and walked to the bar. Brian was waiting.

  
“What’s all this this?” She queried gesturing towards a small glass cabinet.

  
“Oh this, is my Cat Grant shrine.” He joked and as he hand flourished. “Only you are allowed to drink what is in the cabinet.” It was currently holding the glass decanter set she used.

  
“Really B..”

  
“Wait.” He held up his hand. Turning slightly he put on a name tag. “Hello my name is not Bill, Bob or Buddy.”

  
“I should get one of those for when my mother visits. She insists on calling me by a name I hate.”

  
“Oh and what would that be.” He asked smugly

  
She gave him an almost feral grin “Brendan, I’m falling down that hole.”

  
“Ughhh” He cried banging his head against the bar.

  
She laughed. He had come to enjoy the sound of it. Shyly he passed her a new tumbler on a small silver platter. She looked at him curiously, as he indicated for her to pick it up. It felt weighted in her hand, fitting perfectly.

  
“I, I had it made for you.” He stammered. “This one stays here, but I have four others for you and your family.

  
“Oh, Brian. Thank you.” Cat was at a loss as to why. The glass was beautiful and unusual. “I only have two sons, but Carter will love especially love it.”

  
“You should invite your lady friend to share a meal with you and him.”

  
“I’ve never mentioned ..”

  
“You don’t have to Ms Grant, I can sense you miss her.”

  
Cat didn’t say anything. Her inner turmoil over leaving, (pffft who was she kidding) over her running away. She choked on any words. Brian sensed this, began explaining the bottle.

  
“This bottle was gifted to me. This label designed by Lino Di Vinci. It’s from the Bowman distillery in Virginia. I have relations there.”

  
He did not mention that what was left of his race all worked in distilleries or breweries. Except for Brian in National City, but he was always an oddball.  
He began pouring two glasses.

  
“I like to think of this as the friendship bottle.” He proffered “So let us drink. In celebration to new friends, old friends and those left behind but always in our hearts.”  
He clinked her glass. They both downed the single measurement in solidarity.

  
“Wow!” Cat exclaimed. “I need to savour that next time. I have to go now”

  
“Goodnight Ms Grant”

  
She was back the following Wednesday having missed their usual Friday. The sadness surrounded her was almost visible. Not just her eyes that were puffy from obvious tears nor the grim set of her lips and jaw. No, her very aura radiated grief. He got the bottle and her glass from his special cabinet. Poured a good measure.

  
“I lost a friend today.” She began.

  
“Not..” He was almost going to cry himself.

  
“No, another woman I mentored. I gave up on Leslie just like I did Ka .. her. Except Leslie went rogue. In the end though she redeemed herself, became a hero, saved another friend of mine.” She sighed heavily.

  
“New friends, old friends, those left behind, but always in our hearts.” He said softly.


	4. Elixir of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am dedicating this chapter to @fictorium, @DiNovia, @ LisaofNine, @OfEndlessWonder @campnowhere - their Cat/Kara stories over the past few months have kept me going when I felt particularly low. Thank you to everyone who kudo'd and commented. Enjoy the last chapter.

" />

She had not shown up at the bar for three consecutive Fridays. The stolen list of the alien registry weighed heavy on her mind. She was not sure she could face the people in the bar, was not sure she would be welcome again.

  
“None of us blame you Ms Grant.” Brian told her as she walked to the bar. It was a side he had never seen a contrite Cat Grant.

  
“Thank you, Bill. The government agency involved is going to need a major overhaul. I need to leave for a few days.” She told him.

  
“Then I have just the very thing.” Turning, he walked into his office. Carefully he put the items on a platter and hid them under a cloth.  
She smiled when she saw the arrangement.

  
“So dramatic Bill,” She smirked.

  
“Brian.” He rolled his eyes at her. With a flourish, he took off the cloth.

  
“Is that..?” Cat’s eyes went wide with wonder and disbelief.

  
“Yes!” He confirmed his eyes lighting when he knew she recognised the bottle.

  
“They only made twelve bottles.” She whispered, reaching out reverently touching the bottle.

  
“Technically they made fifteen. One is with the Bowman family.” He clarified.

  
“Why do I get the feeling you have the other two?”

  
“Because I do.”

  
“How?”

  
“Another of my people works there.”

  
“Ahh! Yes you’ve told me that before. It’s worth a fortune.”

  
“Ms Grant, our people learned that wealth is not the key to happiness. We left our planet long ago, scattered ourselves across various galaxies. Twenty of us have been on this planet for almost a hundred years. We found Scotland to our liking. The cool weather, greenery, quiet. Your water is unpalatable to us but scotch tastes like the waters of Habania. My planet.” “This,” he raised the bottle “is meant to be drunk and shared.”

  
Cat had read the alien register. Every male from his planet had adopted the name Brian. Only a few females existed calling themselves Alice. They did not have names on his planet. They recognised each other through scent. Their clans from subtle striations and hue of their skin. They could not read minds but had a heightened sense for empathy much like the fictional Betazoid’s in Star Trek. She picked up the glass intrigued by the blue swirls. It felt light despite the thickness of the glass. Holding it up in the light the swirls seemed to move and change every time she rotated the glass.

  
“It was made from the fire sands of my home world.” He told her quietly.

  
Overcome with emotion, she went to give it back. Gently he stayed her hand.

  
“Miss Grant, I want you to have it.”

  
“Bi..Brian..thank you.” She choked back tears.

  
He began to pour whilst telling her his story.

  
“We are not from the Krypton system. The Red Lantern Corps systematically destroyed ours. We had time to prepare for evacuation though. I have others like that.” He nodded towards the glass. She brought the dram of scotch to her lips, inhaling its scent. Blueberries, maybe figs, definitely almonds. The brief thought of cyanide poisoning crossed her mind. The aroma so heady that the taste almost went unnoticed.

  
“Oh my god!” She whispered. “That is surely ambrosia.”

  
He poured more into the glass. She smiled into the glass as her phone pinged. ‘Carter’ He read. Absentmindedly, she opened the message. Usually when she received a text she would scowl or grimace. The grin stayed. “My son.” She revealed. Opening up her photo’s she showed him a picture.

  
“He looks like you.”

  
“He’s in France for three months on a student exchange program. I miss him.” She sighed. She began scrolling when he noticed a picture of Carter with a blonde female.  
“What her name?” He pointed at the picture.

  
“Kara”

  
“Ahhh. She’s pretty.”

  
“Yes, she is, beautiful.”

  
“Why don’t you ever call her instead of sitting here pinning for her?”

  
“What would I tell her?” She scoffed

  
“All the things you feel, Ms Grant.”

  
“What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

  
“What if she does?” He countered.

  
She had no recourse for that. She had seen the looks Kara sometimes threw her way. It’s just a power crush she kept telling herself. Nevertheless, those hugs. They sustained her while she went on her sabbatical to Bhutan for a month. Seeing Kara cry that last day had almost broken her resolve. Being with Kara on the balcony as Supergirl, she had to steel her nerves. There was no denying her heartrate on either occasion. Surely, Kara could hear it, wasn’t that a declaration in itself. Maybe Brian was right, it was time to say the truth.

  
With a resolute nod, Cat downed the dram of scotch, picked up her phone just as the tune ‘Hail to the chief’ played.

  
“Yes, Madam President. Tomorrow at midday. Airforce One.”

  
Brian watched the steely determination harden her features. Lines that when relaxed make her look younger than her years, now added them. The only word he could think of when he saw this look was ‘gravitas’. A word that embodied Cat Grant. He liked Latin. The formation of the language reminded him of his home.

  
“One for the road, Ms Grant."

  
“Yes, please.” She said, placing the glass back on the bench. “Better make it a big one”

\-------------------------------------------

She came in dressed in jeans, a loose black t-shirt and a pair of boots that looked to be a cross between a hiking boot and runners. He had never seen her casual. Nor did he miss the added darkness under her eyes or the faint line of red from crying. She was not wearing makeup either. This would be a night of some serious heavy drinking. Without a word, he opened her cabinet, poured the sixty-year-old scotch into the blue glass and patted her hand.

  
“When you’re ready.” Was all he said.

  
Cat sighed. Eyes already filled with tears. She let them fall as she poured glass after glass. Sometimes taking the time to savour the after taste of star anise, figs and a hint of the ocean. Mostly she just knocked it back.

  
It was no secret amongst the aliens that Cat Grant was a hero. Brian was becoming worried. It was a side he was sure he did not like. Cat Grant defeated.  
“Ms Grant?” He questioned, concern evident in his voice.

  
“I lost her Bill.” She took out her phone, scrolled to the name tattooed on her heart. Gripping the phone, she slammed it onto the bar. Startling the scant patrons within. Brian frowned at her. “I’m so stupid.” She told him.

  
“I waited too long. She has a boyfriend and a girlfriend..I think.” Her brow furrowing.

  
“When she told me… I made her think that I didn’t run from my feelings about her. That I stayed in Bhutan longer than I did. The only “human” connection”  
Brian’s eyes growing wider as Cat Grant did air quotes. “I’ve ever felt is with her. It is all about who you love, I said. She’ll just never know that I love her. It’s for the best anyway. I mean what would Kara see in a 50 year old woman with two sons, one her age.”

  
She poured a generous amount into the glass and in two gulps finished it.

  
“What would you do differently, Ms Grant?” He asked her quietly.

  
“I don’t know Brian, It’s a quarter after one, I’m a little drunk.”

  
He quirked an eyebrow. She was a little drunk. The properties of the glass enhancing the flavour but not the alcohol content. He definitely would not be telling her that.

  
“I’d tell her, I need her, like I need air. That her smile brightens my day and her laugh lightens my soul. That my son misses her as much as I do.” She whispered the last line, placing her forehead on the wooden bench.

“I wonder if I’ve ever crossed her mind.” She looked up, tears sliding down cheeks.

  
“I let my one chance at happiness slip away, Bill. I don't know if I can do without her. I guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.” She studied the bottle in front of her. Tracing the delicate glasswork with a finger. Remembering.

 

  
She heard rather than saw Brian move away from the bar. Felt a strong hand on her shoulder. Eyes still shut, head bowed, as the stool was gently swivelled from the bar. She didn’t want to need to be consoled but he had been a good friend and she liked him. The arms around her felt familiar, too familiar.

  
Startled, she looked up. Kara’s eyes. Cupping her cheek, whilst slowly moving her thumb, Kara reached across and picked up Cat’s phone, pressing end call.

  
“Ssssh, let me talk.” Kara said as she gently placed a finger over Cat’s lips, sensing a whole lot of denial.

  
“I’ve been falling in love with you since five seconds into my interview all those years ago. I kept my feelings for you because I never believed for a minute that you could want me.”

  
Cat made to protest. Kara kissed her cheek whispering in her ear as Cat shivered and nuzzled her hand. “Let me finish, please.”

  
“I was so lost when you left. I grabbed onto people who I wouldn’t have normally. While I do love both of them, I’m not truly in love with either. That’s always been you.”  
Bringing their foreheads together, she continued in a soft even tone that was so soothing it was seeping into Cat’s skin, relaxing her from the initial panic she felt. They were breathing each other.

  
“Why do you think I saved you and NOT the president? I couldn’t imagine a world without you in it. I’m so in love with you Cat..so in lo” She didn’t finish the sentence the need to kiss her so great she succumbed. Soft lips meeting for the first time with a lifetime of want behind the touch. Tongues entwining, mouths explored, hands clutching, neck, shoulders, back, moving lower.

  
“Ahem! Ladies” Interrupted a voice.

  
Reluctantly they pulled a few centimetres apart only to hear applause. The entire bar patrons whilst not many were clapping. Brian had shifted from behind the area gave them both a hug. Happy tears in his eyes.

  
He was about to go and give Cat a hug when she broke down, when he saw the front door open and the woman she had shown him in photo’s was standing there. As he went to say something, she shook her head and went straight to Cat. He sensed everything would be right.

  
“Hey Brian.” Kara said brightly as she turned her head to face him.

  
“Wait, you know each other.” Cat asked incredulously

  
“No. I know a Brian in National City. Not your Brian”

  
“Oh.” Was all Cat could think of to say. The kiss still lingering, befuddling her brain. Kara was holding her, it felt solid not an alcohol induced dream. She reached up and touched her face tracing her features as Kara closed her eyes.

  
“Are you real? I’m a little drunk maybe I’m imagining this.” Pulling Kara closer feeling soft skin against her cheek and hard muscle under her hands.

  
“It’s the best dream I’ve ever had” Kara whispered back.

  
“Get a room.” A gruff voice shouted from somewhere in the bar.

  
Cat glared in the general vicinity of where it may have come from whilst Kara laughed.

  
“Sorry Ms Grant.” The same voice much softer now with whole lot of contrite.

  
“How is it that you can intimidate the biggest guy I have seen with just a look whereas I have to pummel them to the ground?” Kara smiled ruefully.

  
“It’s a gift.” Cat smiled up into Kara’s eyes. “Never really worked on you though.”

  
“Oh it worked but I also found it sexy as hell.”

  
“Kara Danvers did you just curse.” Cat teased.

  
“Oh. I’m full of surprises.” Kara rubbed their noses. “But not here. May I give you a lift?”

  
“I’d like that very much.” As Cat caressed her cheek. “No more secrets between us though.”

  
“No more secrets.” Kara affirmed knowing that Cat would never reveal who she really was. She leaned into Cat whispering against her sending a shiver down her spine. ”Catherine.”

  
Composing herself, Cat turned fully to Brian. “Keep that bottle for me Bill. I’m dubbing it the ‘Elixir of Magic’ With that she turned and walked out hand in hand, head held high and that swagger he come to miss from their last few encounters.

  
Outside, Kara did a quick spin into her Supergirl persona. Carefully she lifted Cat in her arms a position so well known to both of them it was second nature.

“No more secrets, Kara..?” She arched an eyebrow in question.

“Zor-El. Kara Zor-El” The kiss she bestowed had Cat floating. She looked around her feeling completely safe and literally floating

Brian smiled as he twisted the lid back on the bottle. Engraved with the inscription  
’54. Isle of Islay. Elixir Draoidheachd’ literally the elixir of magic in Scottish. He put it back in his shrine, knowing she would be back.

**Author's Note:**

> Picture perfect memories  
> Scattered all around the floor  
> Reaching for the phone 'cause, I can't fight it anymore  
> And I wonder if I ever cross your mind  
> For me it happens all the time  
> It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now  
> Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now  
> And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now  
> Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door  
> Wishing you'd come sweepin' in the way you did before  
> And I wonder if I ever cross your mind  
> For me it happens all the time  
> It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk, and I need you now  
> Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now  
> And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now  
> Whoa oh whoa  
> Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all  
> It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now  
> And I said I wouldn't call but I'm a little drunk and I need you now  
> And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now  
> I just need you now  
> Oh baby I need you now


End file.
